


Great Valentine's Day Do-Over Date, The

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-15
Updated: 2004-01-15
Packaged: 2019-05-30 22:34:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15106178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Josh. Donna. Are there do-overs in dating?





	Great Valentine's Day Do-Over Date, The

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**The Great Valentine's Day Do-Over Date**

**by:**   


**Category/Pairing:** Josh/Donna  
**Written:** April 20, 2002  
**Rating:** ADULT for language  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine, never gonna be mine. Anything you recognize from pop culture isn't mine either. If it was, would I still be this deep in debt? Really, if you want my crappy ass job, truck payment and two emotionally disturbed cats you're welcome to them.  
**Summary:** 6th in the Joshua Monologues Series. Josh. Donna. Are there do-overs in dating? 

* * *

When I was a kid playing sandlot baseball in Connecticut, if you whiffed out bad, your friends might give you a 'do-over.' A chance to make-up for being a complete yutz.

Can I tell you how bad I whiffed it on Valentine's Day?

First, I ended up at the GW emergency room at 2 a.m. with a broken leg. Then I got sick from the Chinese food Donna brought home. Finally, I capped the day by passing out from the pain medication at 8 o'clock.

The only thing I managed to do right was tell Donna that I love her.

Which brings me to today. Three weeks later. I'm hanging out in the office waiting for my mystery 8:30 p.m. appointment.

Well, it's a mystery to Donna. She got upset with me when she saw it on my schedule today and I wouldn't tell her who it was. You think Margaret's bad when Leo messes with his appointment schedule? She's got nothing on Donna.

Needless to say, I sent Donna home about an hour ago for two reasons. One, while I love the woman to death, she was driving me insane and secondly, her being here would negate the mystery.

"Hey, Joshua!"

Her voice rings into my office about the same time Gina crosses the threshold.

Since I'm technically 'elevating' my leg, I let the kid come to me. The Leg is currently propped up on top of my desk, throbbing in time to my heartbeat. It's kind of funky.

"What exactly did you do?" Zoey asks, sitting on my desk next to my cast.

"None of your business, kid. What are you doing?"

She's got one of those huge blue markers in her hand and has shoved my pant leg up. Well, down actually, but never mind.

"It's boring, Josh." Her gesture indicates my entire office, but I presume she's talking about the bland, white cast.

I wanted to get a neon green one, but I was overruled by the fashion police. Donna claimed it would clash with all of my suits.

"It's supposed to be, Zoey."

"How about, I do some work on this and you tell me about the favor you want from me? The favor you aren't going to get if I don't get to color this."

"What are you going to draw?"

"A giant Republican elephant," she claims with a straight face. "Here, hold this."

I'm tossed a red marker that's just as huge as the blue one.

"Have you talked to your mom lately?"

"My mother, who still practices doctor-patient confidentiality, or my father, the gossip king?"

"Either."

"Yes, I have spoken to both of them. Unfortunately, neither of them will tell me the story of how you broke your leg."

"It was a household accident."

"You tripped over the sofa? You don't expect me to believe the crap the Press Corps spewed do you?"

"Why not?"

"Josh, I broke my leg when I was ten. A cow stepped on it, and I only broke the little bone. You broke both of them. I seriously doubt osteoporosis has set in already. Stop laughing, I can't draw this straight. Now what do you want from me?"

"You got stepped on by a cow?"

"Shut up and spill your guts."

"Are you up on my love life?"

"You have one? Mandy Hampton isn't back in town is she? I hate that woman."

She seems genuinely surprised and pissed at the same time. Maybe the President can keep his mouth shut.

"Yes, I have a love life. No, I have no idea where Mandy ended up. This where I need your assistance. Probably Gina's, too. It'll require some breaking and entering."

Gina glares at me. "Not unless I'm breaking into Donna's apartment to move her into yours."

"Funny you should mention Donna."

"Yeah, where is she, by the way? I wanted to talk to her about this non-trad in my Economics class that would be perfect for her," Zoey mentions as she colors away on my cast.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't set my girlfriend up with any gomers from your Intro to World Economic Theory class. And why are you getting a 'C' in Economics? Your dad has a Nobel Prize in the subject, won't he tutor you?"

"I'm not asking my dad for help in Economics. Do you know how embarrassing that is? Wait a minute."

She looks up at me in confusion.

"I said I wanted to set Donna up with this guy."

"And I said I don't want you hooking my girlfriend up with any gomers from your Economics class."

"No! Really?" She squeals as only a teenage girl can before throwing her arms around my neck.

I return her hug. 

"When?"

"Remember that show you didn't want to go with your mom to back around Christmas?"

"The Vagina Monologues?"

"Donna had tickets to go with her roommate. Jen had man-problems and cancelled on her. I sort of invited myself along."

"You finally realized it that night?" 

"Can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"We've always known. Since she left the campaign and then came back. We'd even talked about it. Why do you think we both dated such losers?"

"So what made you change your minds?"

"Your mother and some guy named Bob."

"I'm not even going to pretend to understand that."

"Good. If I had to explain it, your father would kill me."

"Now, give me the red marker and tell me what you need."

I hand her the marker. "I fucked up Valentine's Day."

"You fucked up Valentine's Day? Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"I had help," I defend myself.

"Get to the point," Gina interjects.

"I need you to get me some stuff and take it to my apartment tomorrow afternoon. Then I need you to occupy Donna from about 4:30 until 8."

"Anything for you, Joshua. What stuff?" Zoey asks.

"Some stuff from Donna's apartment and some other stuff. I've got a list."

Zoey looks over at Gina. The Secret Service agent nods her head in agreement.  


"Do I get to jimmy the lock?"

I toss her a key ring with two keys on it. "Nope. The big one is Donna's apartment door. The other one is the master lock on the inside. You'll understand it when you get there."

I hand the list of stuff to Zoey. "No laughing. Are you done yet?"

"Yeah, take a look."

I'm impressed, she did a really cool 'Bartlet for America II' logo that takes up the entire thing.

***

Zoey comes up with a plausible excuse to get Donna out of the office the next day. Shopping.

She and Gina did a bang-up job with the list I gave them. Everything is there. The food, the wine and the candles are in the kitchen and I'm home at 7. Plenty of time.

"You can actually cook?"

I jump about ten feet in the air.

"Jesus Christ, Mrs. B. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

She laughs, coming out of my bedroom. "Zoey was running late with the stuff you asked her to get, so I volunteered to help. You do realize her stuff takes up about half your closet?"

There is only one agent with her, some guy that looks vaguely familiar.

"This is Agent Donovan," she introduces us. "He's here to help you with anything else you need."

"Actually, the gift is in the trunk of my car. I hadn't figured out how I was going to get it in here yet."

He gives me a smile. "Just give me your keys, sir."

"So, what's for dinner?" Abbey asks, taking a seat at my kitchen table.

"Tuna with Lemongrass," I say, pulling a sauté pan out of the cupboard. "A salad and cherry cheesecake."

Taking in the look on her face, I laugh. "What? I can actually cook."

I cook; she lectures me about my last trip to the cardiologist. 

"Lots of people take blood pressure medication, Josh. It's not a big deal."

"As soon as I can get out of this damn cast, it'll go back down," I argue. Which is true. I've been managing borderline high blood pressure with exercise for years.

"It's been borderline for how long?" she points out.

"But it's under control," I insist.

She lifts both eyebrows at me as she stands up to leave. "You're going to be saying that the day they haul your dead body out of the West Wing with an ruptured artery," she tells me, poking a finger to my chest.

I don't say anything in response.

Turning to leave, she gives me something else to think about. "Do you want to leave Donna a widow with a pack of kids under the age of ten? Or do you want to give your daughters away at their weddings?"

I can hear Agent Donovan open the door for her when she yells, "Why don't you try taking an aspirin every morning until you make up your mind."

***

The door opens just as I'm turning off the lights. The apartment is lit only by the two candles in the middle of the table.

"Josh?"

Her gasp of surprise brings a grin to my face. A trail of yellow rose petals leads her to the table where a single white rose sits in a vase. It's flanked by two pale yellow candles in silver holders. 

"Joshua?" Donna calls my name softly.

I'm leaning against the wall in the shadows.

"Donnatella."

"What is this?"

She comes over to stand in front of me.

"It's a do-over," I tell her, wiping a single tear from her eye.

"You did all this for me?"

"I had some help, with the groceries and stuff."

My reward is a sweet and tender kiss.

***

Our first round of what I affectionately refer to as 'practice' is not as sweet and tender as the kiss. It's inspired by the dishwasher. Okay, we had seriously raucous sex standing up against the dishwasher, while it was running. I'd recommend that position if the opportunity presents itself.

Relaxing on the couch, watching some corny sitcom, Donna is unusually quiet.

"What's wrong?" I ask, trying to figure out what could be bothering her. I mean, she loved the gift, dinner was fully cooked, dessert was cherry cheesecake.

"Can I ask you something?"

This sounds ominous.

"Sure."

"Why do you like going down on me so much?"

Oh my God. This could be bad on so many levels. 

"Am I doing something you don't like? Donna, if I am, please tell me. I don't want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable."

I can feel her giggling against my chest.

"No, Josh. It's a general information question. I was at lunch with a Carol, Bonnie, Ginger and Margaret and they were talking about how none of the guys they date will do it. Before you, I'd never had anyone do it." She sounds unsure of herself. 

Donna's never been real eager about giving me head, but I'm not much into get my rocks off that way. I'd much rather come inside Squarepants, feeling Donna ripple around me. I don't push the subject with her, if she offers, that's cool, but I'm not asking. I think she has a thing about oral sex. 

Time to lighten the mood here.

"This is about Bob isn't it?"

It's funny the way I can feel her smile. "Yeah. It sort of is."

"That's the essence of who you are. It's as much a part of how I think about you as the smell of your shampoo, the feel of your skin. It's a part of you only I know."

"Is that why you like it so much?"

"I like it because you do. You feel it deep inside. In a place only I can touch you. Something I have to myself. Something I don't have to share with any of the other people in your life you care about." I don't know if I'm explaining this very well.

"So what part of you do I have that nobody else gets?" Her tone is playful, but serious.

"You have my love, my heart, my trust. You get me, everyday, as open and as honest as I can be. You get those parts of me I can't show to anyone else."

Donna is silent for a minute before she pulls my arms tighter around herself. I can barely hear the words she whispers to me, but they mean everything to me. 

"Make love to me, Joshua."

I kiss her neck and then crawl off the couch, taking her by the hand and hobbling into the bedroom. "We need more space than the couch can provide."

We have set the tone for something slow and measured. I explore her entire body with my hands and my tongue. She's made it her goal to touch every inch of my skin.

She hesitates for just a moment when I take her hand and guide her down to Squarepants. My hand over hers, I take two of her fingers and slide them into herself.

"Press up," I whisper in her ear.

She sighs in contentment until I take her thumb and together we rub her clit. Then her sighs become moans, moans that increase in intensity when I take one of her breasts into my mouth, running circles around her nipple with my tongue. I use my free hand to cup her other breast, kneading it with gentle pressure.

Before long, I can feel her start to quiver under me. The sound of my name on Donna's lips during her climax makes my erection almost painful. She relaxes a bit, and I take her fingers in my mouth, savoring her taste.

When I release her hand, Donna runs it through my hair and captures me with a kiss. The kind of kiss that makes your shins cramp. She reaches down, fondling Patrick and Gary. The feel of her hands exploring those sensitive nooks and spaces causes me to stop responding her kiss. I close my eyes and control my breathing, trying to exist only the sensations her touches bring.

I lose track of time, I have no idea how long it is before she guides me into her, releasing her grip on me only when she's positioned Spongebob inside herself.

It's just my tip; barely inside her. We both pause. Then Donna lifts her hips as I press into her. Our rhythm in this is as it is in everything else, synchronous. She matches my long, slow, deep thrusts. Each time we draw apart, it is as far as we can. I struggle with the feeling that I'll slip out, but Donna never lets it happen.

Donna never lets me fall.

Next: "A Mission From God" 

I'm on a mission from God. We've got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark and we're wearing sunglasses. 


End file.
